


The Facts of Life

by cherry619



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: M/M, POV Outsider
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-15
Updated: 2018-10-15
Packaged: 2019-08-02 09:13:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16302335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherry619/pseuds/cherry619
Summary: Set after the events of RAW 10/8. Dean disappeared into the night and Seth and Roman were frantic to find him. Low and behold the boys receive help in the oddest of forms.





	The Facts of Life

**Author's Note:**

> So....this silly idea was in my head and begging to be written. It's mostly kind of humorous in a way with some dark stuff. It's an outsider POV and I left some little hints onto who that outsider is but I don't reveal it until the end! I thought using him would provide for some lighthearted stuff. 
> 
> Once again, this is just a silly one shot but I hope you guys like it anyway!

He’s not sure what compels him to turn around at all.

In fact, he’s cursing silently trying to maneuver his shitty car into a 3-point turn to try and get back down the street wedged in between all the shops and buildings. It’s dark out now with only the hazy orange streetlights illuminating the road, as well as his dying cars headlights trying to offer what little sight they can.

So, he isn’t entirely sure how he spotted the man but the nagging memory of what occurred before he left work wouldn’t leave him alone.

_“Where is he?”_

_A voice all but roared loudly right in his ear causing him to flinch and drop the magazine he was attempting to read._

_He rubbed his ear in annoyance, rolling his eyes at the loud intrusion until he straightened up at seeing a tribal tattoo right in his field of vision._

_He swallowed meekly, stepping back, his eyes traveled up, up and up until he was staring face to face with one Roman Reigns and he sure as hell looked pissed._

_“Did you see where Dean went?” A calmer voice offered, peeking behind the broad man’s shoulder was Seth, equally as intimidating in his black Shield garb._

_The shorter man shook his head, “sorry guys haven’t seen him. Wouldn’t he be with you?”_

_He’s not sure why the second part comes out of his mouth. He immediately slams his lips shut and meekly cowers expecting to be sent flying into the brick wall behind him, but the larger men don’t have anger in their eyes, no their eyes are flashing pure hurt and concern. He’s not entirely sure what happened out there tonight but it must have been awful._

_“Sorry...” He offers again in apology at noticing both men’s moods deflate entirely, shoulders dropping and eyes scrunching into similar masks of concern._

_“Thanks anyway,” Seth offers and they both swiftly walk past him, hurriedly moving onto the next person they spot demanding the whereabouts of Dean Ambrose._

His head is telling him to continue going. His car keeps giving off a weird gas smell that somehow both makes him nauseous and high at the same time. Also, considering the fact that almost every man involved in this weird spat has injured him or has _intended_ to on more than one occasion, _especially_ the man who everyone was attempting to look for.

So yeah, it likely wasn’t a good idea to get himself involved but his heart is also reminding him of the earlier encounter, and the way both guys looked absolutely defeated and stressed. It wasn’t a secret that the Shield had a very strong, emotional bond. He wasn’t too sure what that bond entailed but he could easily see how much they cared for one another.

Also, the fact that before he attempted to leave for the night both men were _still_ anxiously questioning anyone on if they saw Dean and vigorously searching the entire arena.

As he pulls up slowly to the curb, making sure to turn his headlamps off so he wouldn’t spook the man he leaned forward in his seat, squinting out of his dirty windshield at the guy leaning against the brick wall, cigarette in hand.

The swat gear gave him away easily and if it wasn’t for the fact that his car refused to go over 45 miles an hour on a good day he likely would have sped right by the alley way none the wiser to his whereabouts.

He watched the man angrily mutter to himself as he pushed himself aggressively away from the wall and started to angrily pace in a frantic line. He muttered to himself as he went, amping himself up to the point where he thought that Dean might just explode.

It looked as if the man needed mental help rather than two dudes charging in on him.

The smaller man bit his lip, fighting with himself on whether to get out of the car or stay in the safety of his shit vehicle, what little safety it would offer.

Groaning, he finally decided to try and creep out of the vehicle.

Opening his door was never the problem but shutting it always offered a rusty bellow of a moan, begging the handler to be gentle.

The moan was obnoxiously loud in the hollow alley, causing him to trip over himself spectacularly in his haste to leap behind some trashcans sitting at the opening so he wouldn’t be spotted.

All sound froze except for the painful wheeze he kept admitting every few seconds as pain pulsed down his bruised shin from it’s contact with the sidewalk. “God damn it....” he breathed out shakily, heart frantically beating in his chest when he couldn’t hear the crazed rambling anymore or the manic footfalls from Dean’s pacing.

He waited with bated breath, figuring that Dean would come looking to see what the commotion was about but eventually the angry rambling started up again and the sounds of boots hitting concrete soon followed.

He breathed a sigh of relief, wiping away sweat and grime from his forehead shakily.

Attempting to right himself and sit up was hard. He didn’t want to jar any of the aluminum cans or trash. He eventually settled for scooting on his ass, leaning against the brick work and craning his neck at an awkward angle to stare at the man.

Dean’s pacing was a lot more frantic and agitated than before. He never really had witnessed this from him before and he was on the same brand as the man was for a year. He never saw anything to this extent. He’s seen the man angry, he’s seen the man hit things and rant but _never_ something like this.

It became almost like an act, caught mesmerized at seeing one of his coworkers in a vulnerable state. He continued gawking for what felt like fifteen minutes but in reality, was probably only three when Dean finally let out a harsh sounding yell mixed in with a sob before he turned around with lighting speed and hit the brick as hard as he could with his fist.

“Jesus Christ,” The small man yelled.

The sound of flesh hitting brick just kept repeating and repeating ad nauseum. Dean was unrelenting however in his obsessive rage against the brick.

“Shit...fuck....” He muttered, snaking his hand in his jeans attempting to retrieve his phone. He didn’t have Seth or Roman’s numbers, but he was friends with one of the refs so hopefully they could send the message along.

His hands were shaking as he finally located his phone and attempted to scroll through the contacts. Dean’s angry yells and harsh sounding breaths were echoing loudly in his ear.

“Hey, uh.... can you send a message to either Seth or Roman....you have Seth’s number? Good, tell him that I located his boy.... yeah no don’t tell them it was me just tell them to get their asses to the street outside the arena down the fifth alley on the left.... okay thanks.”

He closed the call quickly and pocketed his phone. He didn’t want to be anywhere close by where the two bigger men would spot him.

He quickly dashed toward his vehicle not even attempting to muffle any sounds or be discreet. He didn’t think Dean would likely see him or pay him mind giving how intense his rage seemed to be. He wrenched open the driver side door and prayed for his car to start right up as he jammed the key in the ignition.

When the beautiful sounds of his car puttering to life started he whispered a quick, thank god, before he was speeding off as quickly as his car could get moving.

It took about twenty minutes for a black sedan to pull up to the alley way.

He was parked about a few feet away, ducked down low in his seat and wearing a dark hoodie to blend in. Dean’s rage had ended about as fast as it started, almost like a flash bang. The yells turned into gut wrenching sobs which twisted his insides and made him feel awful.

The slumped form of one Dean Ambrose has been sitting curled up leaning against the cold brick for going on ten minutes. Two men quickly excited the black sedan still in their ring gear looking about outlandish as ever.

He felt guilty for watching and prying into their personal lives, but he had to see this through to the end given his involvement in the matter.

It was hard to really see clearly or hear but he could definitely make out the harsh gasps and sharp “ _Dean_ ” that sounded like concern, relief, and pain all in one agonized moan of his name.

He was sure Dean’s hands had to be spectacularly fucked up. There’s no way the man made it out of that without collecting some good cuts, welts, bruises and likely fractures or broken bones from it. He went to town hard on the brick earlier.

Both men were bent low, huddled around his form. He blushed severely and averted his eyes when he saw Roman lean in and kiss Dean’s forehead softly, his big palm never leaving Dean’s neck as Seth held his hands in a soft grasp.

He felt like a huge jackass for spying on them in such an intimate moment.

Turning his key in the ignition, he got ready to skedaddle when finally, all three men were walking slowly out of the alley. The closer they got the better he could actually see the damage that was done to Dean’s hands and they did not look pretty. Mottled bruising and red starkly contrasted with his pale skin. His arms were shaking despite Seth holding onto the man’s biceps, keeping his arms wrapped close to his body.

Roman shouldered past both men’s slow shuffle to open the door and snag what looked like a blanket before he was walking back and draping it over Dean the best he could. The weather was indeed a bit nippy out and Dean had been out here for more than an hour with nothing but his ring gear on. He probably was frozen at this point.

He started to pull out from the curb when finally, they managed to get Dean in the car. As he was passing the black sedan on the street as discreetly, at least what he thought, as possible his and Roman’s eyes met.

He could clearly see Roman mouth the words, “Curt?” with pure confusion which had him pressing on the gas pedal as hard as he could sending his car into its overdrive speed of 55 miles per hour just to get the hell away from the whole situation.

Looking in his rear view mirror he breathed a sigh of relief at seeing all the men in the car and thankfully not following him.

His hands shook on the steering wheel as he slowed down for a red light. “What the fuck just happened?”

The next time he see’s the Shield together he’s backstage at one of their house shows. The Shield were MIA for yesterday’s show but all three were dressed to the nines in their gear, walking the corridors of the building as if they owned the place. Dean’s hands were bandaged up but he looked ready for a fight, bouncing up and down and shadow boxing despite the fact that Dean was _actually_ boxing with a brick wall about a week ago.

Seth laughed, a nasally sound that immediately irritated his ear drums as Roman just smiled a huge grin. The three guys moods were so drastically different than when this mess started that he brought a _little_ bit of a smile to his face. A little.

Sometimes, if he stopped and thought about it, he was a tad bit jealous of the confidence each guy had and the bond they shared. It must be nice knowing you had someone that concerned for your well-being but then again, that also came with the annoyance of dealing with each other constantly. Curt tried to put himself in either man’s shoes and all he could imagine was the horror of dealing with either Seth, Dean or Roman on a daily basis. Yeah, no thank you.

Curt went back to reading his magazine, his trusty staff lying underneath the metal chair he was sitting on paying everyone no mind as music softly played in one ear that was filled with his ear bud.

All the sudden a body collided with his chair, sending Curt jolting forward and his magazine flying out of his hands.

Annoyed at the rude intrusion to his peace, Curt turned around quickly, face red. “Hey...what the hell are yo-” Curt stopped dead in his tracks as his eyes traveled up the body to the eyes of Roman Reigns.

The encounter was eerily similar to the one they had a week ago, however this time Roman’s eyes were warm and kind, not cold and distant like before.

“Sorry about that.” Roman scratched the back of his head while shrugging his shoulders, Curt rushed to appease him.

“Not a problem. I was done reading it anyway.” Curt laughed nervously, kicking the magazine under the table.

“Listen, I just wanted to thank you for what you did that night. I-” Roman stopped himself briefly, a distant look in his eyes obviously remembering that nights events before he continued again. “I don’t think you realize exactly what you did but I really do appreciate it, both me and Seth do. No hard feelings, right?”

Roman stuck his hand out, obviously expecting a hand shake, Curt snapped out of his staring by slamming his mouth closed and gripping the man’s bigger hand in a firm shake with a nervous chuckle. “No problem man.”

Roman smiled at him softly before pulling away. “See ya around.”

Curt gave the man a nod, sighing when Roman turned the corner. That awkward encounter out of the way, Curt searched for his staff and struggled with his tangled ear buds when a voice startled him once again, making him drop his staff loudly with a clang and causing him to stub his toe on the steel chair with a yelp.

“God damn it...” Curt winced, cursing as he hopped up and down, he glared darkly at the voice behind him before realizing it was Roman again.

The man had a slightly embarrassed look upon his face, but his eyes gave away how much enjoyment he was getting out of causing the man pain.

Asshole. Curt thought darkly. They all were a bunch of fucking assholes. “What do you want?”

“Sorry again, just forgot to say that Dean wasn’t too happy to learn his whereabouts were ratted out, Seth tried calming him down but he’s not taking that too well either. He says he wants a match with you tonight and Corbin approved it! Have a good day man!” With that Roman cheerily rounded the corner again leaving Curt gaping like a fish, his toe throbbing and his staff long forgotten on the floor.

He supposes it was _he_ who needed to face the facts. The fact that the shield were a bunch of dicks.


End file.
